


To Achieve Success, Block Tumblr

by Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise



Series: Marlowe Fics [6]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: :O, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Cute, F/M, Fluff, I actually wrote a fic without pain!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-28
Updated: 2017-02-28
Packaged: 2018-09-25 18:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9837905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise/pseuds/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise
Summary: Hitch convinces herself to get her working skills into shape under the pretense of impressing a co-worker.





	

"Knock-knock!" Hitch's drawling sing-song voice came from the door as she entered the computer lab.

What was she doing here? No matter; she'd be gone soon. Marlowe suppressed a sigh and attempted to finish his thought.

"I just got some overtime work, so I figured I'd keep you company."

The images and concepts in his mind became a nonsensical freeze of black squiggles on white punctuated by the odd prismatic pixel. Had she just said 'overtime'?

"I made us some hot chocolate, too." A mug clinked down by his elbow and he looked up at her. She smiled.

He blinked and frowned. "Overtime?"

She nodded. "Yup!" She sat three chairs down from him and booted up the computer. Without glancing over she entered her password and logged into their network. Computer hummed, keys clacked and mouse clicked as she sifted through several files and opened a document. She did send a look his way at that point, and gave a curious eyebrow raise. "Hm?"

"...Overtime."

"That's what I said. You'd figure for someone who harped on others' listening skills so much..." She gave him a sideeye smile, then turned her gaze back to the monitor and took a sip of hot chocolate.

He slowly turned back to his own monitor, frowning. Overtime? What was Hitch doing with overtime? Hitch, who couldn't even stay focused on undertime? He took a breath, blinked and sat back. Was she trying to impress him? To prove that she was a good employee too? He sent a flicker of a glance over.

Her finger slid over the wheel on the mouse and the document slid down a notch. Her eyes shifted back and forth with the text.

He gave her an hour; hour and a half tops. There was no way, with her track record, that she could--

The screen flashed blue. Aha. She was already on social media. Some "overtime"--She made a series of clicks and a dialog box popped up. She clicked it and the page disappeared. A blank page with a line of text reading "This page is now blocked" came up in its place.

What.

She then proceeded to click through several other social media sites: Facebook. Twitter. Instagram. Reddit. Several he didn't know. Then she took her phone from her pocket and turned it off.

He stared. That...that small device was her life. Her everything. Every time he saw her it was glued to her face. If she could--

She looked at it a moment, then swiveled her chair to face him. "Marlowe...will you do me a favor?"

He gave her a look to continue.

"Hold this for me?" She held out her phone and he stared dumbfounded. She gave a self-effacing smile. "I'm afraid it'll be too much of a distraction."

Slowly he took it. Uncracked screen. Slim yellow case. Jingling charms: a cat, a bell, a donut. He looked from it to her and she swiveled her chair back to face her screen.

"Can't be having that kind of interruption if I'm going to take my job seriously!"

He slipped it from his fingertips to his palm and set it beside his keyboard, then pushed it back behind the monitor as the bell charm jingled.

She gave a self-conscious giggle. "Hey, if you wouldn't mind, could you put it on the other side of your keyboard for me? I...don't want to be able to see it." The fingers of her right hand twirled around a honey-colored curl of hair.

He nodded and moved the phone, setting it screen-down on the other side of his keyboard. The background was patterned with chibi cats.

"Thanks!" She clapped and turned back to her computer. "Well! Let's get to work!"

With a skeptical eyebrow raise he looked back to his own screen. Time was 5:30 pm. He gave her to no later than 7:30...maybe 7:45.

***  
[6:00] Hitch rolled her neck around her shoulders with a scattering of small cracks. A full half-hour gone already! And not once had she broken concentration. She resisted the urge to glance over. She was a professional now, and he was going to see how focused and determined she could be. He was NOT going to see anything less than a businesswoman. And businesswomen kept their attention on their work.

[6:30] A full hour gone and the words were only just starting to swim. She sat back and blinked a few times. Not bad at all! It was tough, but once she got in the swing of things it barely felt like time was passing. That deserved a break. She clicked the internet, clicked on--  
_Blocked,_ came the page before she'd even finished typing the url. She bit her lips together and nodded. Right. She'd done that. She was going to focus. She took a deep breath and it sounded loud in the small room. Marlowe failed to hide a slight smirk.

"Wow, a full hour of productive work," she said.

"Good."

"That gives me another...five hours to go."

(Finally) he looked her way. "Very nice."

She gave a clipped business-like sigh. "Hm. I'd better get on it, then."

They turned back to their respective monitors.

[6:45] How long had it been? Only fifteen minutes? How could it feel so long? Time for a bathroom break. She stood and glanced towards where her phone was, behind the keyboard--no. She wouldn't bring it. She left the room.

[7:00] Back to work!

[7:30] An absentminded click sent her back to a blocked page. And another, and another. Alas, she had left herself no loopholes...

[8:00] Why did these letters refuse to form words? Why did thoughts refuse to be the substance of these sentences? Why did they congeal with the pretense of intelligence and yet...nothing? No, she would NOT take another bathroom break just to walk around. (Marlowe would catch on.)

[8:30] Too-small print spread over too-small margins on this webpage, and the squiggles of ink seemed to shift and dance. She leaned back in her chair and groaned, looking at the ceiling--jerked back upright and turned it into a cough. No, no, she wasn't going to let him see. She had to prove him wrong!

[8:40] _Blocked._ Again she grit her teeth and swallowed a sigh. Clicked back to work. What had once been words were now an arcane cacophony of symbols...

[8:45] _Blocked._ It had only been five minutes?!

[8:50] _Blocked._ Hadn't she just done that? Thoughts in a blender, circling back, back-- _blocked, blocked, blocked!_ Ah! Why couldn't she focus on anything?? Why did nothing make sense? No, she HAD to power through. She closed her eyes for ten seconds, looked away from the screen, studied the ceiling. Alright. She could do this. No, she did NOT need a bathroom break to gather her thoughts. She had this. She had this.

[8:55] She was going to die here, and he would shake his head reprovingly as they carted out her body.

[9:00] HOW WAS HE SO CALM? HOW WAS HE SO NOT CRAZY? It was SO quiet in here when the AC was off. Her own breathing was maddening. His own breathing was maddening. Inhale, exhale, moisture billowing in a cloud, condensing on skin, humidity rising. Was it hot in here? Was it cold in here? AHH, she was SO HUNGRY. Why had she brought no food? What an ugly color for the walls. When was the last time they had vacuumed? Cleaned? The buzz of bacteria was almost audible.

[9:10] It was time. She was ready. It wouldn't be blocked, it would be a computer program--she could escape--she could--WHAT? This computer didn't even have SOLITAIRE!? Minesweeper?? Pinball?? Her head lolled back and she groaned, remembered, cleared her throat and back to the screen. No. Imagine the mortification if he'd caught her playing solitaire.

[9:15] WAS THERE NO ESCAPE FROM THIS ACADEMIC HELL?! Wait. There was. Enough was enough. She stood and her knees popped and she winced. "I'm going to the bathroom!"  
He shot her a baffled-seeming look, then glanced away and back. "Oh. Do you want this?" He held up her phone and the charms jingled.

Sweat trickled down her temples and she swallowed. Yes. She wanted it. She wanted to dive into the sweet blue rabbit's hole of mental numbness, scrolling through pictures and memes with barely half a thought, wrapped in the inane time-sucking void of pleasant vacancy...

No. No.

His eyes narrowed slightly, confused.

"I--no. No thanks. You can keep watching it for me if you don't mind!" She dashed through the door into the freedom of the hallway. A current of fresh air caressed her face and she released the sigh she'd been holding in. In the bathroom, she looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Alright, Hitch. You can do this. You were a parachute brought in by your daddy, but now its time to get with the program. You don't have to be smart, but you do have to apply yourself. It's time to think again, Hitch--you can't always run to the internet for escape!"

***

It felt good to be walking after sitting for so long. It was hard to believe Hitch had made it this far without breaking. She hadn't even asked him for her phone yet, and had been relatively still and concentrated-looking for most of the time. He turned towards the men's room and paused. Hitch's voice came muffled from behind the women's room door.

"You got this, Hitch. It's time to challenge yourself. You'll never grow if you don't challenge yourself! Always running back to social media is just selling yourself short, and setting you up for for more of the same!"

He raised his eyebrows.

"I know it's boring, but you'll only learn if you push yourself, and the more you push yourself the easier it'll get. It's not just to prove Marlowe wrong anymore--"

He half-smiled.

"--it's for YOU. Marlowe represents the standards you're not meeting because you're afraid you'll never BE able to meet them! And you know what? You can! And even if you don't, that's ok! Your worth doesn't rest in how well you meet your goal, your worth rests in who you are as a person! If you fall down, you just pick yourself up again and keep going! Every failure is a chance to learn! So get back in there, and finish! your! job!"

He did a quick sprint to the door and it closed behind him as hers slammed open. That was close. Her footsteps paused, then went determined down the hall. He smiled.

He entered as she was typing. She flinched slightly and paused, but resumed. The door closed as he re-took his seat.  
Her cheeks were a bit flushed and she glanced over. Their eyes met and sent them both staring back at their own computers.  
Keys ceased clacking beneath her fingertips and there was a pause. He began typing on his side and with a soft (relieved?) exhale she continued on hers.  
He glanced at the clock. 9:30. Still some time to go.

Even for him it wasn't always easy staying focused, though that information would probably only validate any residual justification she sought for getting distracted. He sighed and glanced at the clock. 10:00. They'd done well so far; taking a break was healthy. "Hot chocolate break?"

She whirled with a surprised look. "Oh! Sure! Wait, you take breaks?"

"Sometimes it's good." He gave her a flat look. "Sometimes," he emphasized.

"Well, I think we've done enough work to justify it!"

"Hm." He gave her a slight smile. "Yes, I think we have."

Surprise flashed across her face along with a tinge of pink. "Uh--yes. So do I." She threw open the door to the hall and he followed.

***

It was quiet, only the nighttime skeleton crew at work. They walked side by side down the hall. Obviously she didn't need his approval to be validated, but...it was oddly uplifting all the same. Since she'd been small, she'd never felt an obligation to chase anyone's approval. It was a game to scorn it. To skirt along the edge of bare minimum and watch their frustration. Even better: to live happily without it! Who did they think they were, anyway, to try and control her life?

It was funny...but also a manifestation of fear. Her family had high hopes for her academically. She learned from a young age that anything less than the best was unacceptable. She was always pushed, but never good enough--never perfect. Then she'd wondered, why did she have to be what they wanted? She drove her studies into the ground, and after the fires were extinguished her parents gave up and a world of pressure fell from her shoulders. She was home free, out of the rat race! Daddy had money and Hitch had a cute face. Perfect combo.

But now there was a shift. Marlowe hadn't started it, but he'd helped her to see it (in his own high-strung way). Though now she was out from under her parents' authority, she was still playing the "dumb" act as if the same oppression still dominated her life. It was fear, not laziness, that drove her to fail. A period of frustration and depression leading up to now had been seemingly without source until he'd come stumbling in, gangly and ranting and full of confidence and crazy ideas. His passion had shown what she was lacking. She'd teased and brushed him off at first, but despite his quirks the idealism and clear vision of a bigger and better world was endearing. It was refreshing--it was inspiring. (Plus, he was kind of cute in his always-frustrated, bowl-cut and deadpan sort of way. But that hadn't been her motivation, swear.)

They rounded the corner to the small employee kitchen. He got down two cups, filled the water pot from the sink, and set it on top of the coffee maker. The heating plate began to pop and fizzle as it warmed.

"So...when did you start being so righteous?" she asked with a giggle.

He took a breath and his gaze shifted to the side. "When I was little, I was always very convinced of a right and wrong. It seemed so clear to me. I know how naive my position might sound. But all of us as children seemed to just 'know' that hurting one another was wrong and so was stealing and cheating and the like, and there had to be a reason. When I got older, I formed my own philosophy to solve for 'why'--" he gave a slight smile and she groaned, "--and was affirmed in my initial beliefs. It's not about obeying the 'rules', because sometimes the rules are wrong. It's about doing what's right and following through in all aspects of life. That means working hard where the rules are right to set an example for others; like in work, or academics, or even just social graces like waiting in line and holding doors open."

There was a pause. "It's good," she said.

"Hm?"

"You...can't build anything without a foundation. So when you come in like you do, with a foundation and a drive and a goal, it...can be a good thing." Heat rushed to her cheeks and she glanced away. "If you're not irritating everyone to death, that is," she salvaged with an attempted snarky glare.

The water heater dinged and they poured and stirred in quiet. "Do you wanna take it back to the room?"

"I don't mind if we stay out here a bit." He gave a slight smile. "I know it can be a little stifling."

 

The next few minutes saw them back to the room and back to work. It was difficult...but easier than it had been. They didn't leave until the lab closed around 11:30. He gave her a ride to her car (as she came perpetually late, she was parked on the far side of the now-vacant lot.) His car was clean and smelled new--pristine windows, perfectly polished dashboard and controls. It was all she could do to stop herself from drawing a fingerprint smiley on the window.  
He parked and they got out. She unlocked her car. "Thanks, Marlowe."

He nodded.

"Gosh, I don't know how you do that working thing for so long! I'm dead."

"You did good."

She blinked, then grinned. "Thanks! I think so too." She opened the door and climbed in. "See you tomorrow!"  
He lifted a hand in a wave as she drove off. She smiled.

***

It was rough getting up after a long night of after-hours study, especially into the frigid winter outdoors for his walk to work. His only pause on the way was a quick 100 yen in a vending machine for a can of hot coffee. It served unopened as a handwarmer until he reached the office. He clocked in and shivered, held the can with both hands to let the warmth spread. Still a little early; didn't need to get started quite yet.

Running footsteps in the hall and the door burst inward. Hitch slammed her card into the timer with three minutes to spare. She did a double fistpump and sighed, stretched in place and then caught his gaze.

"You were on time to--"

"Hey, Marlowe! You--"

He nodded at her and she shook her head with a gesture his way.

"You were on time today," he finished.

"Yes, and it almost killed me! You don't look tired at all! How do you manage it?"

He half-smiled. "Coffee." He glanced at the unopened can in his hand and held it out.

"Huh?" She blinked and took it. "T-thanks?"

"There's a vending machine on the way from where I live. The coffee's hot in the winter and cold in the summer, so it's a nice pick-me-up if you're dragging.

There's probably one around where you live, too--there's quite a few."

"Canned coffee, huh?" She inspected the label.

"What, you've never seen it?"

"We don't have it back in Switzerland."

"Ah. It's good." He cleared his throat and glanced at his watch, shifted his feet back towards his workstation. "Well, I should..."

"Is it ok if I drink it?"

"No, I just gave it to you to look at."

"Oh..." She held it back and he shook his head. "I was joking."

"What?!"

He smiled and left, and she gave a surprised smile after him. She hadn't expected how good that approval would feel. Hadn't expected how nice it would be to have that glimmer of respect that he'd shown her. It was a new sensation, respect. She'd had the superficial praise of a hundred false friends, but this was something different. Something real. Something for which putting in effort was a worthy cause. She popped the top on the coffee and took a sip.

**Author's Note:**

> Ta-daaaa! I wrote fluff! Nobody-dies fluff! This is an occasion for sure...XD


End file.
